Some Assembly Required
by superfreak330
Summary: Data/OC A terminally ill girl from our century gets cryogenicaly frozen and "wakes up" in the timeline of TNG as a Borg. As she sets off on a quest to re-discover her past, she offers Data a chance at becoming more human. Rating for language.
1. Everytime We Touch

**AN:** This is my first _Star Trek_ fanfic, so if there's anything OOC about anyone or if something just isn't up to par, please feel free to tell me. CONSTRUCTIVE criticism is always welcomed.

I'd like to thank Sapphire Azure for all her help, and Deran McKean of _All Experts_ for his help in answering my questions as well.

I'd like to plug the Data/OC works of Sfbell888 (_In the Hands of Time_), LessaSoong (_Lessons Across Timelines_), ans Skathi (_Mildly Illogical_). And I'd also like to plug a _Buffy_ (Spike/OC) fanfic of Child Of The Fay (_A Sire's Blood and a Mate's Love_).

For those fans of my other fics, I apologize for not updating in FOREVER. The stories are put on hold for now, until my muse for them decides to return. T_T Sumimasen.

* * *

**Character Profiles & Background Info**

Aden Alastair:

16, Vulcan, Male

6'5"; 210lbs.

Medium-short black hair (like Billy-Joe from Green Day or Girard Way from MCR) and golden-brown eyes.

A brass and cocky young Vulcan-Borg with an intensely loyal and familial bond with Winifred. Having come to see her as his older sister, even a mother-figure at times, Aden is slightly over-protective and will do anything for Fred. Despite this he is still an adolescent male with raging hormones and an adult-oriented sense of humor. He will often joke with Fred about how whenever he sees an attractive female that he wants to "fuck her senseless," quoting that when it comes to his charms "resistance is futile." Fred's reaction is always that of mixed disgust and laughter, often calling him a "horn-dog" or a "male-chauvinist pig" and stating that her humanity has corrupted his Vulcan genetics. (Even though Fred has a similar sense of humor, but unlike Aden, hers is just toned down around those she doesn't know.)

Winifred "Fred" Alastair:

25, Human, Female

5'4"; 120 lbs.

Golden-brown, shoulder-length locks and deep hazel-blue eyes.

Originally born in 1998, Winifred (nicknamed "Fred") suffered from Batten Disease, a rare genetic disease that was fatal. Thankfully her father, Dr. Isolt Alastair, was an expert in bioengineering; whilst her Mother, Fiona, was the top cryonic researcher of her times. Upon her seventh birthday and the discovery of her disease they devoted their research solely to finding a cure for their child. However by the time she was 14 Winifred's condition became nearly terminal. In a desperate attempt to stay off the Grim Reaper and provide more time for their research, Winifred's parents had her cryogenically frozen at their lab in DC.

Centuries later, in 2368, a group of archeologist funded by a Ferengi trader, Frak, uncovered some old ruins in which they find a cryogenic pod containing an adolescent human female. Rather then keeping the pod and studying it for historical purposes, Frak decided it would be much more profitable to sell the pod to a man he knew, a "collector" of unique findings. It took several favors and illegal smuggling operations for Frak to finally get the pod out of Federation territory so that he could arrange a meeting with his contact. Whilst in transport Frak's shuttle was intercepted by a Borg cube and assimilated on site.

Since Winifred was not physically mature enough to become a full drone she was placed into a maturation chamber and given her first Borg implants. (Fortunately for her she was still unconscious from the effects of her cryostasis when she was assimilated.) Not two hours later the cube carrying Fred intercepted was hit by an electro-kinetic storm, killing all adult drones on board and crashing the ship into an M-Class planetoid. The sole survivors of the incident were those in the maturation chambers, since they were run by their own, separate, power-core and, because of their developmental process not being completed yet, were also somewhat immune to the effects that killed the adult drones.

Upon awakening from their chambers, a side-effect of the power failure caused by the ship's crash-landing; the survivors lost their connection with the hive mind. Without this connection, and due to their unfinished assimilation into full Borg-drones, the children's own identity was left mostly in-tact. Several moths went by in which the children formed their own little community, complete with an age and talent based chain-of-command. It ran rather smoothly, considering it was an entire society of children. The most important contributing factor was no doubt their combined efforts into creating a shuttle craft from the wreckage so that they could return to society in search of their planets of origin.

Once in space the children set course for the nearest inhabited planet where they separate in their own directions to rebuild their lives. Fred, having learned from the Borg archives that Frak had also found her parents' journals, decides to track down the merchant in hopes of finding out what happened to her family while she slept. She is joined by a 5 year-old Vulcan male who ever since the crash has been clinging to her heels like a lost puppy. Having been 3-months old when he was assimilated, the boy had no name of which he remembered, so Winifred decided to name him after her elder brother, Aden.

Over the years the two develop many useful technologies biased on Borg knowledge and technology, as well that of the cultures they visited. This was due in part, a rather large part, to their questionably unethical ways of using their assimilation tubules to interface with the main computers of each "stop" on their journey and download all useful information into their cortical processors. It was through this that the two came up with an idea to retrieve the Alistair's journals from Starfleet. (They had learned that after sending Fred's pod off to its supposed destination name intended to sell off the journals to another collector on Deep Space Nine, only to be caught by Security Chief Odo and have the records sent to Starfleet command for further analysis.)

Their plan was simple in conception but rather difficult in practice. They would gain access to Starfleet by going through Lieutenant Commander Data. They would give him what he always wanted, or at least as close to it as they could get, in return for the journals. All they had to do was develop functional, artificial internal organs and flesh, refine and expand his emotion chip, and create artificial DNA so that the whole Lal incident (they happened upon this info by chance) need not be repeated and he could spawn his own child naturally…well, by natural means…as natural as an android turned cyborg could get, that is. After that they would use Data's off switch to neutralize him so that they could surprise him with their work. When he woke up he would be so grateful that he would do everything in his power to gain Fred access to what was rightfully hers in the first place.

Eleven years later (2379) our story begins as Winifred, now 25 (technically 381), stows away on Enterprise E with her "adopted" brother and close companion, Aden. The two use their remaining Borg implants and survival-techniques learned over the past decade to mask their presence whilst living inside the Jeffries tubes of the starship. They spend their time there studying Data and perfecting their plan to acquire the Alistair's journals from Starfleet. It is during this time that two things happen: 1. Despite her attempts at hiding it, Aden notices Fred's new-found attraction towards Data ("The files never mentioned how…how he… how aesthetically pleasing he is!"), for which he playfully mocks her. 2. The events of _Nemesis_ take place.

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**Chapter One**

Viewing Data's decision through the connection he had with the ship's computer, Aden gets slightly upset.

'_Oh, no you don't! Not after all we've went through!'_ Aden grimaces as he quickly makes his way towards Data's location. As Data is about to implement his plan Jaden releases several hundred of his nano-probes into the chamber where they quickly penetrate Data's synthetic skin and covertly begin to multiply and intergrade with his systems. (Aden had programmed them, while on his way to Data, to secretly "infest" all his systems and create a rather unique and untraceable signal in him for which Aden intended to beam him directly back to the ship should things go the way he feared they might.)

After initiating a link with Data's nano-probe filled posotronic brain, Aden is able to visually see everything Data does. Had Aden not been a child-prodigy and therefore excellent in his creation of "stealth nanites," Data's system would've been able to detect the nano-probes within milliseconds of their penetrating his skin. Aden gives a cocky smirk as he mentally congratulates himself for being THE SMARTEST person EVER, organic, Borg, android, or otherwise.

'_Aden, what the hell do you think you're doing, running off like that without telling me?!' _Fred scolds him through their mental link. '_Do you have any idea how-' _

'_Shut-up!'_

Fred's eyes widen in shock before narrowing into anger. _'Now I know you didn't just say what I think you did! You're not suicidal, but if you don't explain yourself you know I WILL slaughter your sorry, pointy-eared ass!'_

'_Just wait.' _Aden stated, holding up his finger._ 'I'm trying to rescue your boy-toy android.'_

Fred, shocked, held her mouth agape. _'I-I n-never said he was…Data, he…he doesn't even know I exist let alone that…'_

Aden rolled his eyes and tuned her out while he watched the scene unfolding aboard the Scimitar. His eyes widened as he saw the captain teleport out and Data aim his phaser.

'_Dumb-shit android! I'd let you fry if it weren't for the fact it would upset Fred!'_

One second Data is about to be swallowed by the explosion, the next he finds himself safely aboard the Enterprise.

"Curious, I appear to be in the Enterprise's Jeffries tubes." Data noted as he took in his new surroundings. Upon spotting Aden he redirects his phaser at the intruder. "I do not believe you should be here."

"I save your positronic ass and _this_ is the thanks I get?!?"

"Uh, Aden, in case you forgot, we ARE stow-a-ways."

"I know that! It's just you'd think he'd be more grateful!" Aden pouted as he glared at Data holding the phaser, mumbling under his breath. "Ungrateful droid!"

This turn of events leads the Alastair children to a level five force-field containment in sickbay. Here they are kept under guard by no less then six security officers as Dr. Crusher examines them.

"You know, Doctor," Aden stated as she checked him over with her tricorter, "the guards are quite unnecessary. We've been here for some time now, undetected, and haven't done anything remotely un-admirable. If our intent was to take the ship it _would_ be ours by now." This only won him a shocked/scared look from the doctor and a smack up-side his head from Fred.

"OW! What was that for?!"

"Do you REALLY believe that you're helping the matter by saying stuff like that?! Think, Aden, use your common sense!"

"I was only trying to reason with her."

"You call THAT reasoning?!"

Aden shrugged. "Yeah, kinda. At least I'm trying to get us outta here, unlike you."

Dr. Crusher smiled slightly at the sight of the two bickering like little children before Captain Picard entered. He was followed shortly by Commander Riker, Lt. Commander Data, Councilor Deanna Troi, and Chief Engineer Geordi LaForge.

"It would appear Data's initial findings were correct, Sir. The two do appear to have Borg implants." Dr. Crusher informed him.

"Yes, I understand." Picard nodded. "What about you two?" He asked, eyeing Troi and LaForge. Councilor Troi tried reading the two's emotions while expressing her findings as Geordi entered the force-field and did a diagnostic check on their implants.

"While they're not complete drones they aren't exactly 'normal' either, Captian. It would appear that they've experimented with some rather unique 'upgrades' to their implants." Geordi stated as he gawked at his readings.

As Picard and Riker question the siblings, Data begins to study the two "drones" intently. The female appeared to be in her mid twenties. She was human, and about 163 cm. tall and 54 kg. in weight. She had golden-brown, shoulder-length locks tied back in a loose-fitting braid and deep hazel-blue eyes. Her figure was what most humans would consider average; about 91.4 cm chest, 66 cm waist, and a hip ratio of about 111.8 cm. The male was obviously Vulcan. He had a slim yet athletic build and was 195cm. tall and weighing about 95 kg. He had shaggy, medium-short black hair that fell into his eyes at times and golden-brown eyes. Aside from this the two appeared to be dressed in rather unique clothing that he'd never seen before.

Meanwhile, Deanna sensed Fred's reluctance to tell them their intentions as well as her romantic feelings towards Data. She also took note of the girl's shy yet quick glances towards the android and smiled warmly at her findings.

"Captain, since Lt. LaForge seems to be done, maybe Geordi should take Data to engineering and run some more diagnostic tests? To see the extent of the nanites progression in Data's systems?" Deanna smiles.

Noting the look in her eyes, Jean-Luc agreed and dismissed his two officers. Geordi left willingly as Data stopped to take one last inquisitive look at the new "guests." He wasn't positive, but it appeared he had established a minor mental link with the young Vulcan.

'_Curious_.'

Once they left gone Deanna excused herself and took Beverly aside to discuss the girl's readings. Beverly stated her shock yet motherly glee over her observation of Fred's biological responses after Data entered the room and when he left. The two exchange observations before coming to the delightfully whimsical conclusion that Data may have unknowingly met the woman he's been waiting for…Assuming things went well and the two drones weren't out to deceive them, of course.

The two women returned to find two rather disgruntled looking men getting nowhere in their interrogation of the two stow-a-ways. Fred, who was holding her head in her hand and shaking it in apprehension, remained quite as she was too unsure of what to say. Meanwhile Aden played a game of reverse psychology and kept reiterating the questions he was asked, smirking triumphantly at the state he'd gotten the two men in. ("I see, you are inquiring about our names?" and "So you want to know where we're from?" etc.)

"Captain, if I may." Deanna smiled. "Perhaps a change in tactics may be more beneficial?" Deanna nodded towards Beverly who deactivates the force-field. With a warm smile and coaxing tone Deanna asked them if they would like to be shown to their quarters, where the three could talk in private. The captain looked at her in disbelief and was about to object when Beverly interrupted him.

"That is, assuming the captain could spare an extra room normally reserved for refugees and official representatives?" There were no refugees or representatives on board at the time, obviously, so the women didn't see any harm in asking. Riker reminded them about how the two were Borg drones and stow-a-ways.

"God only knows what they did to Data with those nano-probes of theirs!" he stated, citing that they should be held in the brig until they could be safely transported to Starfleet Command. Deanna smiled.

"Yes, they _were_ Borg, they're free now." She then reminded Riker about how the two had shown no signs of hostility and had also rescued Data from certain death. Knowing when to give up, Picard allowed Deanna to show the two to some spare quarters, with the stipulation that there be two armed guards posted outside…just in case.

After being shown their new _humble abode_, Deanna talks the two into telling her their story and reason for coming to the Enterprise. After learning about their reasons Deanna is delighted to hear that the two have all but created the actual items needed to make Data more human.

"We'd basically be making him a reverse-cyborg. If that makes any sense?" Fred smiled. Shocked from all that she's learned, Deanna nods her understanding and promises that they have no need to worry but that she will have to inform the captain of their discussion.

Several days go by and, after receiving permission from Captain Picard, Data joyously assists Fred and Aden (along with Geordi and Dr. Crusher) in engineering the parts which would soon bring the android's fondest wish to fruition. Not surprisingly all those involved, except Data, were quick to notice Fred's growing infatuation with Data. While Data was mildly worried he might've offended Fred, the others enjoyed watching her blush ever so slightly every time Data got within two feet of her or spoke to her. Meanwhile Fred was doing her best to maintain her cool and not shudder every time Data happened to touch or bump into her. She was doing rather well at it, as anyone who wasn't involved in the project simply perceived her interactions with Data as nothing but professional.

While Fred _did_ help in designing the updated sexual organs and programming for Data, upon visual contact of him shirtless (they needed to run simulations/tests), she decided to opt out of working on this specific section of his body and left it to Aden and the others to finish. This confused Data as it was Fred (and Aden) who had made the initial designs, but Dr. Crusher explained that there is a _significant_ difference between blueprints and the actual product/thing.

"I see. While I compliment you on your appropriate choice of metaphor, Doctor, I am still confused as to how my physical state of being would cause Fred to cease in her participation of something she has no doubt taken years to design. Based on this and Fred's heart rate, body language, and ambient heat being given off, she is either coming down with some sort of infection or is having an adverse reaction to my presence."

Beverly smiled. "I don't think she's sick, Data."

"Inquiry. If Fred is not sick, why is she having such an averse reaction to my presence? Is it not normal for a scientist to take pleasure in the actual act of creating something they have worked so hard on?"

"Yes Data, but unlike most 'inventions' _you_ have the form of an actual person."

"That is correct, however I am still afraid that I do not understand why my form would cause such a reaction in Fred. Does my appearance appall her in some way? Does she find me…ugly?"

Geordi tells him not to worry, no man has or will ever truly understand the inner workings of women, so it's best not to stress over something that is beyond his understanding or control.

"Besides, I'm pretty certain that Fred doesn't find you in the least bit ugly." Geordi smiled. Still confused, Data agrees to drop the matter and, after much coaxing, promised not to ask Fred about it.

After spending hours each day with the young woman, Data soon took note of the slight idiosyncrasies Fred displayed around him. The way she would talk warmly and openly with the others and speak only when necessary with him. (Though she wasn't rude, she was still nice…Just not very conversational or open.) How she would avoid making eye contact with only him, and kept him at a farther distance then she allowed anyone else. She would even call him Lieutenant or Mr. Soong, despite his request she call him Data. It hurt Data to think that he could've inadvertently done something to upset her. He decided that once everything was complete, once his…operation was a success, he would make an attempt at reconciling with the young woman who intended to grant him his dream yet avoid him at all costs.

As for the "upgrades" to Data's body and neuronet; they include the need to breathe, eat, use the restroom, sleep, and eat healthy. The consequences for which are, respectively, temporary loss of all cognitive functions (kinda like blacking-out), decrease in energy, soiled pants, decrease in energy, and weight gain. These needs and their corresponding consequences are programmed to remain functional and active, with him having the inability to deactivate them, unless continuing to do so would endanger his life or that of others. (Like if he was stranded on a desert planet with few supplies and a wounded comrade. The programs would shut off so that Data could take better care of his friend and not consume all the resources himself.)

"Wow, you two really went all out!" Geordi exclaimed as he went over all the new_ improvements _to his friend.

Aden smiled. "Hey, if the droid wants to be human so badly who am I to deny him?"

"Please, you just can't wait to see him fart or do some other embarrassing bodily function." Fred smirked.

"Who? _Me?_ Why Fred, I'm hurt that you would even insinuate such a thing."

Geordi smiled at Aden's mock attempt at fanning insulted.

"Besides, any 'real' human does the same thing every now and then and _they_ can't turn it on or off at whim. Why should Data be any exception? He DOES wish to become more human after all. I'm just making it more _realistic_."

As Fred and Aden insisted on getting Data as close to human as possible, 50-75% of each new organ and his new skin cells were created from replicated samples of their own bodies fused with synthetic materials. Data's new DNA and RNA are created from remaining hair and skin samples of Dr. Soong. These samples are reproduced then altered so as to create a possible facsimile of what one of Soong's biological children would've had.

"Astounding!" Dr. Crusher smiled.

"You can thank the resident Vulcan-Borg prodigy for his successful attempt at mapping the human genome and unlocking the secrets to the "building-blocks" of DNA." Fred stated dryly. "Narcissistic little elf won't ever let me forget that one!"

Beverly laughed. "He does tend to 'toot his own horn,' doesn't he?"

"You have _no_ idea." Fred thought about telling her how she could often hear Aden doing nasty things in his room at night and how it tended to take him half an hour "just to pee," but decided against it. '_I'm sure she knows all too well about living with an adolescent male.' _She thought, remembering how Dr. Crusher would often compare Aden to her son, Wesley.

It took about 12 days, 3 hours, 56 minutes, and 9.3 seconds until everything was ready for Data's "operation."

"I promise not to leave any tweezers or sponges inside you." Aden joked.

Data tilted his head in confusion. "If I am not mistaken, such surgical instruments have not been used for several hundred years. I am therefore confused as to-"

"Joke, Data. That was a joke." Geordi chuckled, placing a firm grip on his friend's shoulder. "You ready?" Data nodded. The "operation" began as soon as Data laid down on the table and Geordi activated his off switch. "Sweet dreams, buddy." Another 6 hours, 12 minutes, and 16.8 seconds went by before they were all done. The procedure went off without a hitch and now all that was left was to reactive Data.

* * *

**AN: **That's all I have so far. Please let me know what you think and if you'd like me to continue with the story. For anybody wondering as the the type pf clothing Aden and Fred wear, there are links on my homepage that redirect you collages of possible outfits they'd wear. Though I should state the while Aden's remains mostly emo/punk, Fred's ranges widely from jeans and t-shirts, to emo, to cyberpunk, to cosplay. However all of Fred's clothing is never too form-fitting (tight), almost never shows off her belly, is is usually somewhat conservative in respects to how how high-up her pants will go and how low her neck-line will be. You'll almost never find he in anything one would wear to the Oscars or in a Vogue magazine. She's more the dorky girl-nextdoor type.

To anybody wondering; Yes, part of the reason I chose Fred's name/nickname is because of the character from _Angel_. The other reason for choosing her name is because of it's meaning. Winifred is Welsh for "blessed peace," which to me describes the way Fred makes most of the people who get to know her feel. Aden is Gaelic for "little fire," and attributes to his personality. Alastair means "defender of man" in Gaelic.


	2. A Whole New World

A/N: Thanks to DataLady91 for agreeing to become my co-author for this. YOU ROCK, LADY! All credit for writing this chapter goes to her, I just helped with a few of the ideas.

Oh, and I'm pretty sure the fact that this a piece of fanfiction should help to assure anyone with the slightest doubt that neither DataLady91 nor myself own any of the copyrights to _Star Trek:TNG_, its characters, etc. If we did I can assure you the ending to _Nemesis_ would NEVER have happened and Data (and maybe Shinzon) would still be alive. (Goes on explicative-filled tirade about the uncalled for events and Data's death.)

* * *

When Data awoke hours later, the first thing he saw was light. Bright white light all around him. And his only thought at the moment was: '_Am I dead? No, I cannot be dead. But where am I?'_ As his vision came into clearer focus, Data realized he was in Sickbay, lying in one of the bio-beds. '_Why am I in Sickbay?'_ Data tried to sit up, but he collapsed back on the bed as a sharp stab of pain shot through his body. This was most definitely a surprise. '_Why am I feeling pain?'_ he thought, totally bewildered by now. _'Why am I feeling anything at all? I am an android; I cannot experience sensations like humans.'_

All of a sudden, the memory came back to Data in a rush. _'Human… Fred and Aden wanted to make me more human! I wonder…_' Slowly, Data raised his hand until it was level with his eyes. He gasped as he saw that his hand was no longer pale white and opalescent, but the color of true human flesh! _'My skin… can it be? Do I truly look like a human? I wish I could see…' _As if she had known what he would want, Beverly had left a small mirror on a stand by the bed. Data caught sight of it and picked it up, and then, taking extreme care not to aggravate the pain in his body, sat up. He held the mirror in front of his face and oh my.

It was like a young Noonien Soong was staring back at him, mouth open in surprise. _'Well, that is reasonable. I am his son, after all.'_ His hair, still the same rich mahogany brown, was sticking up like a cow had licked him. His skin was creamy white and smooth. His lips and cheeks had a pink tinge to them. And his eyes… it was his eyes that amazed Data the most. An astonishingly pure, luminous blue – like Earth's daytime sky. Trembling with joy, Data lowered his hand and placed it on his chest. He let out a laugh of delight when he felt the steady beat of his new heart beneath his fingers.

_'This is extraordinary!'_ Data thought to himself, beaming from ear to ear. _'It was a success! I must thank Fred and Aden – but where are they?_' His eyes darted around Sickbay. Fred and Aden were nowhere in sight.

**Elsewhere...**

Raucous laughter bounced off the walls of Transporter Room 3, causing passersby to wonder what in the hell the transporter chief thought was so funny. If only they knew what was going on inside – and down on the planet below, for that matter.

Inside the transporter room, Aden was rolling around on the floor laughing like a hyena. He was clutching his sides tightly, as if he were afraid he would shake himself apart from the laughter racking his body. His face was turning green rather than red, owing to his Vulcan blood. Jeez, anyone who didn't have brain one in their head would think he was going to puke. And over on the transporter pad were five Starfleet uniforms – three red, one gold, one blue – and five pairs of boots lying in little piles. It wasn't hard to figure out what was going on.

"Aden?" The doors slid open and in walked Fred, only to behold her brother on the floor, rolling around and laughing his ass off. Some kind of communiqué was coming in over the intercom, albeit hushed slightly, so Fred couldn't make heads or tails of it. Rather, her eyes remained locked on Aden's laugh-stricken form. "Aden, what in hell is so funny?" she demanded. "I haven't seen you laugh this hard since you peed in Dad's aquarium and killed all the fish."  
Unable to speak, Aden pointed a shaking hand at the transporter pad and let out another roar of laughter. Fred glanced in the direction his finger was pointing and – "Oh, dear Lord. Did you beam those people out of their clothes? You mean to tell me they're on an away mission in their birthday suits?"

Aden sat up, gasping for breath after his laughing fit. "What can I say, sis?" he chuckled. "I am a perverted, evil genius. Just like Dr. Evil in Austin Powers." He reached up and pressed a few commands on the computer console, restoring the volume to normal. "Here… listen to all the wonderful things they're saying about me."

Fred listened in. What she heard was far from wonderful; the members of the away team were doing some pretty impressive F-word acrobatics over the intercom. It was all she could do not to laugh at some of the insults, the tamest of which included "green-blooded, prank-happy, motherf***ing cyborg." The away team was good and pissed off; a few of them were even threatening to hang Aden by his ankles from the brig ceiling.

Fred smiled. "Man… I'd pay through the nose to see that."

Aden cocked himself up on one elbow. "Oh, really? Why?"

"Think about it. You hang upside down from the brig ceiling, all the blood's gonna rush to your head. And considering your blood's green… you're gonna look like the Jolly Green Giant with pointy ears," she quipped, laughing at the image that presented itself.

Aden rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the support, sis. Hey, what takes you in here, anyway? I thought you would've been glued to that android's side waitin' for him to wake up. 'Specially given the way you've been ogling him all this time."

Fred blushed, but kept her voice even. "I came down here to get you because Dr. Crusher told me Data might be waking up soon. I figured you'd want to see him, too."

"Y'know, you've got a point there. I can't let you be the only Blue Fairy who gave Data the Pinocchio treatment." With a lurch, Aden jacked himself up onto his feet. "C'mon, let's go see the results of our handiwork."

"Uh, Aden…" Fred pointed at the clothes-littered transporter. "I don't think Chief O'Brien's gonna be too happy beaming up a bunch of butt-naked, pissed-off officers."

Aden shrugged. "Aw, let 'em shiver and squirm for a while. 'Sides, I can always tell Chief O'Brien it was a transporter malfunction, and dollars to darseks he'll believe me."

"Liar, liar, pants on fire," Fred hissed, grinning in spite of herself.

"So true. Especially the pants on fire part," Aden chuckled wickedly as he and Fred set off for Sickbay. Hey, it wasn't _his_ fault the medical personal assigned to the away team had a hot body.

* * *

A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed that chapter as much as I did. All praise for the writing of this chapter should be directed towards the Great and Wonderful DataLady91. Please remember to review, a simple "Keep up the good work" or "You could use more work on [insert suggestion here]" etc. will do. CONSTRUCTIVE criticism is ALWAYS welcomed, blatant disrespect and insults are unwarranted and will be reported.


	3. Feels Like Teen Spirit

A/N: Sorry for the LONG wait, we've both been uber busy with school and life in general. Thanks again to DataLady91 for helping me to co-author this.

Per the usual, neither DataLady91 nor myself own any of the copyrights to _Star Trek:TNG_, its characters, etc.

* * *

"You take that back you pointy-eared freak!"

"But Sis, I thought you wanted me to always be honest with you." Aden chuckled, running down the corridors and trying not to knock-over the ships personnel. Passersby watched as he ran for dear life away from his now homicidal sister. Just as he was turning the corner Aden ran smack into a very disgruntled and surprised Lt. Worf.

"If you two must insist on petty bickering and sibling rivalry then I insist you do so in your own quarters and not running around the ship."

Seeing the upset Klingon caused Fred to come skidding to halt. Aden, never one to pass up a well-timed joke, quickly held out his leg and tripped Fred, sending her flying into the opposite wall before falling backwards and landing on her butt.

Sighing, Worf walked over to the young woman and offered her a helping hand. "What have you done this time?" he asked, not to the young lady he was currently helping, but to the perpetrator he knew was still standing behind him.

"Who, _me_?" Aden chuckled. "Why would you think it was ME who started all this? Is it MY fault Fred can't take a joke?"

"You know damn well that THAT is nothing to joke about, Aden!" Fred grimaced.

"What is nothing to joke about?" Data asked, beating Worf to the punch as he approached the three.

"Nothing!" Fred squeaked, caught off guard by his sudden arrival.

"Yeah, just having a conversation about routine maintenance and system updates." Aden smirked as Fred whipped her head around to glare at him.

As Data is about to question what Aden went by this his stomach growls. '_I'm hungry?'_

"Well lookie here, seems someone's new implants are working, thanks to yours truly. I think now may be a good time to try eating. What say you, my dear Data?"

For one in his life Data now physically craved food. The need to consume life-giving sustenance to maintain proper bodily functions and insure his own survival. This was truly astounding! Yet again he was amazed by 'new body.'

Taking a moment to process everything, Data smiles and nods. "Yes, I agree."

Next thing Fred knew, she was practically being dragged by Aden to accompany him and Data to Ten Forward. As they sat down Aden waved Guinan over and told her they'd have one of everything she had. So now here they were, sitting at a table covered in samples of different foods from across the galaxy, Data stuffing his face to sample the tastes and textures of all of them. Some he liked, others he didn't quite as much. A few he actually spat back out and gave a disgusted face at.

"Slow down, Goku, keep up with this pace and you're gunna get a spare tire." Aden laughed, having a blast watching Data eat. Data was about to ask what that meant when Fred jumped backwards, falling out of her chair, screaming. The three watched as Fred scurried across the floor and hid under the table behind her. Guinan had just delivered a new dish to the table that looked like a fried tarantula and Aden informed the two about how Fred is arachnophobic (between laughs).

"Sorry about that, I didn't mean to scare you." Guinan apologized and took away the offensive item. Data, ever the gentleman, got up and walked over to the table Fred was under.

"You may get up now, if you wish. I believe that Guinan will not bring that dish back out." Data knelt down and held out his hand. As he helped Fred to her feet her cheeks began to redden. "Are you alright?" Data asked, noticing the blush on Fred's normally porcelain face.

"Y-Yes, I'm o-okay. Thanks." Fred stuttered, quickly releasing Data's hand once she was up. Head down in embarrassment, Fred turned towards Aden and informed him that she would meet him back at their quarters. Data watched as the young woman left, practically running out of the room.

"Despite your sister's statement, I believe that you may want to take her to sickbay tomorrow. She seems to be suffering from sporadic hot flashes and bouts of epidermic sensitivity." Smirking, Aden stands up and places his arm around Data's shoulder.

"How would you like to try a new holodeck program I just created? I call it 'Playboy Planet.'"

* * *

Back in her shared quarters, Fred threw herself onto her bed and began to cry.

Why? Why was she such a hopeless and pathetic looser when it came to him? Every time she'd get close to Data it was like her body forgot how to function properly. Why was that?

'_It's probably because he's one of the first guys I've liked who didn't think I was a leper.'_

Prior to her "cryogenic adventures," Fred had little to no contact with boys outside her family because her condition often rendered her unable to leave the hospital as much as she would've liked. Early symptoms of Fred's Batten Disease began to appear around shortly after her sixth birthday, with a gradual onset of vision problems and seizures. Her family also started to notice subtle personality and behavior changes in Fred along with slowed learning, repetitive speech, clumsiness, and stumbling. Over the years more problems such as poor circulation in her legs and feet, decreased body fat and muscle mass, curvature of the spine, hyperventilation and breath-holding spells, teeth grinding, and constipation began to arise more prevalently.

Homeschooled while her brother was allowed to attend public school (he was healthy enough to, unlike her), Fred was able to spend a few hours every so often outside where she would visit local shops and "people watch." During this time Fred would draw in her sketch pad and imagine what it was like to be "normal" and have friends, sleepovers, and boyfriends like everyone else. Sadly, the boys her age were usually too scared of her because they didn't understand her condition and thought she might be contagious.

Over time, Fred started to suffer mental impairment, worsening seizures, and progressive loss of sight, speech and motor skills. Eventually, Fred started to lose her eyesight, became bedridden, and began experiencing the first signs of dementia.

'_But all that changed, thanks to THEM.'_ Fred sighed as she rolled over on her back and glanced at the now protruding assimilation tubules in her hand. Sure, the Borg weren't exactly one of "the Good Guys," but if it weren't for them, or that money-grubby Frak, who knows where she'd be now? She hated thinking about it, but she felt somewhat indebted to them. In a way—a truly bizarre, twisted, and unintentional way—Fred was saved by them.

'_Bet I'm the first person to ever think that!'_ she laughed at herself.

* * *

Aden's holodeck program was _interesting_ to say the least. The landscape and architecture were from Earth circa 1920 but with obvious modern influences such as replicators and hover boards. Data calculated the main building was approximately 1,951 square meters (21,987 square foot) that sat on 5.3 acres. It was a Gothic-Tudor mansion with ivy-covered stone walls, leaded glass windows, a slate roof, burnished copper drains and castle-like turrets in the corners. Outside the heavy golden oak front door was a white marble fountain with lion heads and cherubs spouting water. Aden explained to him that it housed 30 rooms including a grand hall, library, living room, dining room, gymnasium, and a wine cellar. Outside was a private zoo and aviary, tennis courts, a waterfall, and a large swimming pool area edged in stone (including a patio and barbecue area, a hidden grotto, a sauna, Japanese koi pond, and a bathhouse).

There was a separate building on the property's north-side which Aden called his game house. From the fountain in front of the main entrance, there were two sidewalks, which ran past a wishing-well. The sidewalk on the right led to the game house and ran past what Aden explained was the Hollywood Star of Hugh Hefner. The building's front entrance opened to a game room with a pool table in the center. This room had a number of vintage Earth arcade games, pinball machines, player piano, jukebox, television, stereo, and couch. Further exploring led Data to discovering that the game house had two wings. Walking to the left, one found a room with a soft cushioned floor, mirrors all around, television, and an exit. There was also a restroom with a shower. Upon his inspection of the right wing he found a smaller restroom and entrance to a bedroom. This bedroom was also connected to another bedroom, which had an exit to the rear backyard of the game house. The game house had a backyard with lounge chairs, and gates on either side.

The most apparent fixture in the house wasn't the amazingly detailed craftsmanship but rather the copious amount of practically naked, buxom women. All throughout his self-guided tour Data found it hard not to notice how the women here seemed to revel in their naked sensuality, reminding him of Counselor Troi's homeworld of Betazed.

"Hot, aren't they?" Aden smirked, noticing the glances Data was giving the women.

Data was about to comment on how the 30°C (85°F) temperature of the simulation might be effecting the women's internal temperature when part of his "new and improved" internal dictionary kicked in and informed him of the slang meaning for the boy's remark.

"Hot: a slang term used to denote a person one finds to be gorgeous, pretty, beautiful, cute or attractive; to express extreme sexual desire or attraction." Data rattled off as Aden shook his head and smiled. "While I will admit to being physically attracted to these women I'm afraid that I must remind you that despite their aesthetic appeal these are not real women, Aden. Therefore it would be ill advised to start any sort of romantic relationship with them. Perhaps it would do you some good to talk to Geordie about this, as he has some degree of experience in this-"

Aden's hand over Data's mouth caused him to stop. "Data, I brought you here to have some fun, no strings attached sex. This place isn't meant for you to look for Miss Right or anything like that, it's meant to get you laid. Jeeze, I told Fred we should've gotten rid of that stupid habit you have of rattling off definitions, but she said that was part of your character and charm." Aden shook his head and let go of the droid's mouth.

Data frowned at his friend and told him he wasn't one for promiscuity. Sex for the sake of sex was something he didn't have interest in, not only because it served no purpose but because now he was (hopefully) able to father children of his own and he would be remiss if he accidently impregnated a woman he no real feelings for.

That was what Data had meant to do. What he should've said. Instead he decided to give his friend the benefit of the doubt and try things his way. The rest of his time there was spent as Aden's pupil in the "art of seduction." (How he got conned into that was something Data himself couldn't even figure out.)

Finally, after about an hour or so Data had decided that he'd had more than enough of Aden's program and make a bee-line for the exit, dragging the young Vulcan by his ear. Once outside Data let go of his friend and lectured him whilst turning off the program.

"I am programmed in multiple techniques, but I am quite certain that several of their techniques are illegal on at least twenty planets in the Federation - except for Orion, that is."

Aden grimaced, rubbing his sore earlobe and eying what Data was inputting into the computer. "Yeah, well, we're not ON any of those planets, Data, so just chill. I should've known that my program would be too much for someone of your…limited taste. If you wish I can design you a less _creative_ one that won't fry your sensitive circuits."

"I do not think so, Aden." Data grimaced, finishing his work and turning towards the youth. "However, as both an officer and a friend, I am going to require that you speak with Councilor Troi about your…_extracurricular activities_. I am certain that she will be able to help you cope with whatever mental trauma you are experiencing that would cause you to create such a program in the first place."

Aden tried to tell Data that there wasn't anything mentally wrong with him, at least not when it came to creating his program. But when faced with the alternative of his program being brought to the attentions of Captain Picard for his consideration Aden opted for having his head shrunk.

"That analogy is incorrect as one's head cannot be-"

"It was a joke Data, a joke!" Aden explained, throwing his hands up in defeat.

"Where are you going?" Data inquired, watching his friend storm away.

"To remind Fred just how much she owes me for not letting your ass blow up on the Scimitar!"

* * *

A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed that chapter and that Data wasn't OOC. Please remember to review, a simple "Keep up the good work" or "You could use more work on [insert suggestion here]" etc. will do. CONSTRUCTIVE criticism is ALWAYS welcomed, blatant disrespect and insults are unwarranted and will be reported.


	4. Stop Crying Your Heart Out

A/N: Sorry for the wait, we've both been busy with life in general. Thanks again to DataLady91 for helping me to co-author this. She did this chapter all herself, so props go to her for writing this.

Per the usual, neither DataLady91 nor myself own any of the copyrights to _Star Trek:TNG_, its characters, etc.

* * *

As the doors to his sister's quarters whooshed open, Aden sorely wished they were one single door he could slam. That was one drawback of living on a starship - no doors to slam when you were angry. However, he did have the next best thing at his disposal. On his way to Fred's bedroom, he grabbed a throw pillow off the couch, and the second he set foot in the bedroom, he chucked it at her, nailing her clean in the head. "Wake up, Miss Priss," he ordered, not bothering to keep the irritation out of his voice. "I've got a bone to pick with you."

Rubbing the back of her head where the pillow had hit, Fred glared at the pointy-eared beanpole standing before her, hands on his hips like he was Peter freaking Pan. "Aden, what do you want? Can't you see I want to be alone?"

"And what? You expect me to just slink back out with my tail between my legs and leave you here pouting over your boyfriend?"

"Shut up!" Fred rolled over and shot Aden a filthy look. "He is not my boyfriend!"

"But you wish he was."

"Don't you have anything better to do than pick on me?"

"Loaded question, there, sis," Aden warned, taking a step toward Fred with his hands still planted on his hips. "No, I came here to talk some sense into your titanium-plated head. Yeah, I know I'm the last person to talk sense into anyone, but I'm only gonna say this once, so listen up. Quit taking yourself so seriously! You keep on acting like some wimpy little girl around Data; that's not who you are! Be yourself, Fred-o. Don't worry about looking like a loser in front of him. Believe me, now that's he's practically human, he's gonna have plenty of stupid moments himself. And besides..." A slightly teasing grin pulled at the corners of Aden's mouth. "I think he likes you, too."

Fred's eyes nearly bugged out of her head. If that wasn't a kick in the teeth. "You think Data likes me? How do you know that?"

Aden rolled his eyes. "Puh-lease. You should've seen the look on his face when you ran out of Ten Forward. He looked like he wanted to give you a hug, and I've never seen him hug anybody. Besides, it'd explain why he high-tailed it out of my 'Playboy Planet' program."

"'Playboy Planet?'" Fred all but shouted, jumping off her bed. "You tried to make him shack up with some bleach-blonde whore in bunny ears and a fluffy tail?" Furious, she snatched her own pillow off the bed and tore into Aden, walloping him on every word. "Stupid-" **WHACK!** - "green-blooded-" **WHACK!** - "pointy-eared-" **WHACK!** - "mutant-" **WHACK!** - "horndog!" **WHACK!** "What were you thinking! Don't tell me; I already know. That's all you ever think about. Pig!" Fred spat the last word, glaring daggers at her brother.

Wiseguy that he was, Aden snorted like a pig just to tick her off. "Oink oink - OW!" he yelled as Fred clobbered him with the pillow yet again. "You gonna keep hitting me with that pillow?"

"You're lucky I didn't take a phaser to your primary brain, Aden Alistair," Fred said, relishing Aden's pained grimace and the instinctive crossing of his legs. Typical man.

"All right, sis, you win," Aden said, surrendering. "I won't pull anything like that again. And if you want to talk to Data, he should be in his quarters. Said he needed to take a shower after experiencing my program."

Fred didn't need telling twice. She was out the door faster than a scared jackrabbit, without even so much as a thank-you. Aden chuckled to himself and flopped down on Fred's bed. "Jeez. Either she's burning to talk to him or she really wants to see what he looks like shirtless."

* * *

A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed that , all credit for this chapter goes to DataLady91. Please remember to review, a simple "Keep up the good work" or "You could use more work on [insert suggestion here]" etc. will do. CONSTRUCTIVE criticism is ALWAYS welcomed, blatant disrespect and insults are unwarranted and will be reported.


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